The Ghosts
by shashaway
Summary: How to cope the guilt of knowing your very existent is an exchange for the death of humanity.


_**Notes**_

 _Spoiler for Chapter 47_

 _Based on the conversation with Mia._

 _(LMAO though Guren Squad died fucking virgins)_

* * *

He tucks her head under his chin as he feels her tears damp his shirt. "Just let it out, Sayuri," he says, hand doesn't stop caressing her long brown hair. She sobs harder, her trembling fingers cling onto his shirt and Shinya feels his heart break. He doesn't know what to do, to assure Sayuri—sweet hearted Sayuri—that everything is fine. Because it's not.

There is no book for dummies about how to cope the guilt of knowing their existents are the reason of an apocalypse—that 2/3 of humanity died in exchange for their lives.

His eyes burn from unshed tears. He can't cry now. Unlike his friends, he already knows how it feels to be the one survives in exchange of others—friends he killed since he was five, ones he had to kill because of his dire need to survive.

 _But this is different_ , part of him says. _Because he isn't supposed to be breathing anymore._

Shinya bites his lip as he looks at the rest of his friends. Goshi is lying on the floor, his arm thrown over his face, looking as if he tries to suffocate himself. Beside him, Mito sits cross-legged, purple eyes staring at her blood-stained knuckles. There are no tear-streak on her cheeks, but her lower lip is bruised and bloodied from worrying them. Before, she was screaming, raging on the wall with her fist until she could no more. While sitting on the corner is Shigure, hugging her knees and staring aimlessly. She—petite that she is—looks even smaller, as if she wants to disappear.

He reaches out for Mito's hand, gently grabs her wrist to get her attention. The redhead turns her head. "What?" She croaks.

"Shigure," is all he says.

Clouded purple eyes trying to digests what he says, and slowly they're cleared. She nods stiffly and goes to the corner where Shigure sits.

The girl in his arms is still crying, and he holds her closer. "Sayuri," he whispers. Brown eyes look up at him, red and swollen from tears. "Shall we sit closer to Goshi?" Because Shinya worries, he doesn't know what to do but he feels that no one should be alone.

Sayuri glances at the man on the floor then turns her head and nods. Shinya supress a smile, because Sayuri—as broken hearted as she is—will never stop caring other people. They crouch before Goshi—still hand in hand—and she calls, "Goshi," her voice wobbles as she tries to stiffle her sobs.

The blond lower his arm, glancing at them with red rimmed eyes. Slowly he sits up they seat themselves beside him with Sayuri tucks in the middle, close to feel the warmth of others.

Warmth, that shouldn't even been there. They are mere ghosts, with living bodies but dead souls.

Shinya is angry, but he's tired of being angry.

Once, he did anything to survive. But years by, he no longer cares of his life. He had wanted to be gone.

Then he met his friends, those he love and care. To be with them is everything to him. He thought with them is where he belongs—and he still is. Except the place where he supposed to belong is not this world.

He'd been angry in Nagoya, because _that man_ killed his friends, soldiers they should have protected in the first place. And Shinya had tried to forgive _him_ , because the love—wretched feeling inside his ribs—for _him_ wins out despite reasons. But now...

Shinya knows he can't ever forgive him. He has tried to understand. For Guren who survived when his friends were dead, tried so hard to revive them. Guren was loyal for them, but Shinya frankly doesn't want his loyalty if it means people were dead because of them. Guren might tried to shoulder the burden, making them forget of what happened. Nonetheless, _it's their lives_ _in exchange of others_. Nothing could stop the guilt rots their souls. No matter what they do, even if they tried to kill themselves, couldn't bring back the people died from the apocalypse.

Blue eyes glance at Shigure, who sits with her back leaning on his arm. He can't see her face, but he sees how her hand is latching on Mito's—whose head is lying on his lap. Absentmindedly he stares at their clasped hands—those pale fingers gripping tight on each others.

"This is ridiculous," Goshi says to his palm, hand on his drawn knee. He chuckles in self-deprecating tone, "The walking dead, aren't we?"

"I—" Mito starts to say. "I'd rather be dead."

Sayuri flinches at her words. Shinya knows as much as she feels guilt, Sayuri also doesn't want anyone to die. She's confused, from the guilt and her desperation. Teary brown eyes wide as she grabs her arm. "Mito—"

The redhead smiles at her, "Sorry, Sayuri." Her free hand squeezes the brunette's, and Sayuri nods—burying her head back on Shinya's shoulder.

Shinya catches Mito's eyes, and he understands that she might feel sorry because her words hurt Sayuri, but that doesn't mean the words are any less true. She's rather to be dead than for the apocalypse to ever happen. And Shinya agrees, their lives—while precious for Guren—are no important for the humanity itself.

In which case, nothing can take back what's already happened.

* * *

 _ **Notes**_

 _Fuck you Guren how could you_


End file.
